


It Happened Once...

by gotatheory



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:19:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7060114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotatheory/pseuds/gotatheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night in Neverland, David finds himself unable to sleep and Regina helps keep his mind off things. Neither of them count on Hook waking up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Happened Once...

**Author's Note:**

> A dear friend asked me to write Evil Captain Charming over on Tumblr, and I couldn't deny her.
> 
> Warning for adultery, as David is married. Snow is mentioned a few times throughout it.

David isn’t quite sure how it happened. He’s sitting around a campfire in the smothering damp heat of Neverland, surrounded by the never-ending night with the Evil Queen just across from him, sitting primly on a log. He can’t quite remember where Mary Margaret and Emma have gone off to, can’t figure out why he let them go in the first place, and Hook is still asleep not too far away.

He’s basically alone with his wife’s greatest enemy and she’s staring into the campfire, surprisingly alert considering he’s not sure he’s seen her sleep yet. David doesn’t mean to stare, but he is, can’t keep his eyes off of her even as she’s hazy from the smoke coming off the fire. When her dark brown eyes shift from staring into the flames to meet his own, he blushes, looking away immediately and finding a bunch of leaves at his feet suddenly fascinating. It’s embarrassing to react to her this way, like he’s some kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and he reminds himself that he is a prince, that he has stared her down on the battlefield and won, and she is nothing here. She’s not the Evil Queen—she’s just _Regina_.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, bringing his eyes back up to hers.

She glowers at him, presumably pissed he dared to talk to her. Or because he’s breathing. You never know with Regina. “No. Not until we get Henry back and get the hell off this island,” she replies.

He doesn’t know what makes him say it. For some reason, he’s always inclined to poke and prod her, to provoke even though she is, in fact, a dangerous woman for all that she is no longer a queen. But he says it anyway:

“Oh. I thought maybe you had nightmares.” Her brow furrows, eyebrow arching at him, and then he’s adding, “Of all the people you killed.”

She’s glaring now, eyes narrowed and mouth pursed into the thinnest line, but David thinks she looks different. This isn’t the fury of the Evil Queen, all fire and crushed hearts, but something more… normal. More human. It makes him shift uncomfortably on the log, and Regina’s expression shifts with him, triumphant that she’s made him uneasy.

“And what about you, David? What keeps you awake at night?” she asks, voice low, and David feels a stirring low in his stomach, a flush creeping slowly up his neck.

“I—” He stumbles over whatever he was going to say, losing his train of thought as Regina stands suddenly, crossing from her log to his. She stops in front of him, and her expression is familiar. He remembers another lifetime, when he was just David Nolan and not Prince Charming, and the attractive mayor invited him to dinner. “Regina,” he starts again, and he should stand up. Put some distance between them.

He stays where he’s seated, cannot stop his eyes from trailing down her lithe form, lingers on her chest, on all that lovely skin and lace revealed by her unbuttoned blouse. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Regina smirks, and then she’s in his lap, straddling him and his hands instinctively fall to her hips.

She bends her head to his ear, her breath ghosting against his skin as she whispers wickedly, “Oh Charming, what would _Snow_ say?”

David shivers at the mention of his wife, and that should be enough, right? That should give him the strength to push her away. It should not have his fingers gripping her hips tighter, should not have his head tipping back as her hand strokes his jaw, should not have his mouth willingly meeting hers.

He hasn’t thought often about kissing Regina. He _hasn’t_. But he has thought about it, he is only a man and she is attractive. He couldn’t help but notice it as David Nolan and she was Regina Mills, the aloof but beautiful mayor who saved his life. He even noticed it when she was the Evil Queen, dressed in leather and corsets and determined to ruin his and Snow’s lives.

Snow. His wife. His _true love_.

He wrenches his mouth from hers with a gasp, because he shouldn’t be doing this—Mary Margaret and Emma could be back any moment, could catch them like this, and this is just another of Regina’s games. Just another attempt to destroy their happiness.

He’s going to push her off of him. He is. His eyes squeeze shut as he wills himself to push her away, but his body doesn’t seem to want to listen to him. His hands leave her hips, one hand pressing into her back to hold her closer to him, one sinking into her hair.

He moans softly, because she’s still kissing him even though he’s pulled his mouth away. She’s kissing down his jaw, down his neck where she sinks her teeth lightly into his skin, and her hands are at his shirt. Her hips are moving against his, subtle little rolls and grinds, and even through their pants, he can feel the heat of her, can feel his cock hardening in response.

“Regina,” he breathes out, and is that really his voice? He’s never heard himself sound like this, needy and breathy and so utterly conflicted that even Regina hears it, he feels her chuckling against his pulse. “We _can’t_.”

She pulls back, dark eyes impossibly darker and glittering in the moonlight, and a too-familiar evil smirk on her face. She rocks her hips in one pointed grind, drags a rough moan that comes too quickly for him to silence, and she chuckles darkly again. But then she’s easing away from him, trying to leave the circle of his arms, and David knows what he said, knows he should let her go.

Regina arches an eyebrow at him when she feels his resistance. “Make up your mind, Charming,” she tells him, and she’s waiting for him to make the next move.

God help him.

He pulls her back in, crashes his mouth to hers, feels a little thrill when she makes a surprised _mmm!_ in response. The kiss is furious, passionate, his tongue licking at the seam of her lips and slipping greedily past when she opens to him. She tastes dark, smooth and molten like bitter chocolate and apples and just a little of electricity, like ozone. She tastes _amazing_ , absolutely magical, and nothing like—he cuts himself off at that thought, breaks away from Regina’s mouth, kisses her chin and then down her neck.

Regina’s hands are back at his shirt, undoing buttons, and he lets one of his hands slip around to her front. He’s finding it more difficult to get her out of her shirt, her buttons tinier and more delicate and he’s only using one hand, so he stops trying. He wraps one hand around her back, the other under her ass, and then he’s standing.

She clings to him, startled by his movement, and then he’s stumbling blindly over to the pallet he and Snow—he hesitates, but then he’s easing them both down. Regina releases his waist, stopping him from laying her down. “Oh, no, Charming,” she says, and he wishes she’d stop calling him that, it makes him think of—of things he’d rather not think of right now. She’s kneeling now, pulling off his shirt and pausing for a moment to appreciate his chest, and then she’s pushing him back onto his back.

He groans a little, can’t help picturing Regina riding him as he knows now she plans to do. As much as he’d love to have the Evil Queen on her back for him, he thinks he can put away that masculine pride to enjoy this just as much. And like this, he has both hands free, can unbutton the remaining buttons on her blouse and push it off her shoulders, see that lovely lace camisole she’s been teasing them all with.

She’s a vision in black lace, and she knows it, straddles him and sits back on his thighs just so he can enjoy the picture she makes, black lace, black hair, black eyes. All that lovely olive skin, and he doesn’t even have her naked yet.

And he is. He is going to have her naked, going to have _her_ , and it sends a dark thrill through him.

Regina knows it, can sense it, smirking down at him as she reaches for the hem of her camisole. She drags it up and over her body, and David can’t help the sound that escapes him at seeing her perfect breasts trapped in her bra. “Shh, Charming,” she says with a rather devious smile, reaching back to undo the clasp, shrugging off the garment. How can she expect him to be quiet when she’s running her own hands up her torso to cup her own tits? “You don’t want to wake the pirate, do you?”

Shit, he forgot about Hook entirely, and he glances over and— _shit_. “Too late,” Hook says, sitting up and grinning, and even in the darkness David can see his eyes roaming over Regina’s body. And then he’s looking at _him_ , his bottom lip between his teeth as he blatantly ogles David’s own naked chest.

“Well, well,” Regina says from above him, and she languidly grinds against David, drawing a moan from him. “Perhaps waking the pirate wasn’t such a bad idea.”

“I’m hurt you didn’t think to include me, Your Majesty,” he drawls, and he’s approaching them now, and David should—he should push Regina off and maybe cover her up, because this wasn’t the plan—was it?

Regina certainly doesn’t resist as Hook reaches out, trailing his fingers from the side of her neck down her arm in a surprisingly gentle caress. David knows his confusion must show on his face—Regina and Hook hate each other, don’t they; then again, he hates them, doesn’t he? And look at him now, with the Evil Queen astride him and Captain Hook raking his eyes over his body.

He shouldn’t find that arousing, should he? But he does, he really does, and Regina laughs above him as she reaches to tug Hook down next to them. “Feeling a little sexually confused, Charming?” she teases, and she’s grinding against him again, and reaching for Hook and they’re kissing above him, fierce biting kisses that border on violent.

_Fuck_ , he thinks, and he’s groaning, his hands finding Regina’s hips to hold her in place as his own jerk into her. He’s so hard, straining against his pants, and he needs to take them off, needs to get Regina’s off, needs Hook to do—something.

David watches as she pulls away from Hook, and she’s pulling at his shoulders, pulling him up into a kiss. It short circuits his brain a bit, because she was just kissing Hook, and now she’s kissing _him_ and Hook’s _watching_. He moans eagerly into the kiss, and Regina’s laughing again, laughing at him but David can’t find himself to care. Instead, he’s more upset by the way she pulls away, but then she’s tugging Hook closer, saying, “Kiss him.”

And he finds himself face to face with Hook, the pirate grinning roguishly before he’s cupping the back of David’s head. Their mouths meet and for a moment, David is confused, unsure of what he should do, but then Hook is kissing him harder, tilting his head and pressing his tongue past the barrier of his lips. It’s so different from kissing Snow, even different from kissing Regina despite possessing a similar brutality in its passion, and David lets himself get carried away in it, in Hook’s rougher lips and the hard press of his fingers in his hair, and he’s clutching at Hook’s clothed shoulders.

He realizes then that Hook is still clothed from the waist up, and that’s just not right. Regina must have the same thought, because he feels her hands between them, pulling at Hook’s heavy leather coat. She discards in on the ground and he pulls away from Hook’s mouth. It’s his own hands that pull at Hook’s shirt, ripping it over his head.

Arousal grips David like a physical force as he looks at him, his eyes roaming from his face down to the planes of his exposed chest. Regina chuckles, one of her hands on his shoulder while the other reaches for Hook’s, and she whispers in David’s ear, “Like what you see, Charming?”

And he has to make her stop calling him that, because it makes him think of Snow, and he absolutely cannot be thinking of her with another woman on his lap while he ogles another man’s chest. It’s that thought that makes him pull Regina tighter against him, his hand tangling in her hair, his kiss anything but gentle. His tongue immediately slips past her lips into her mouth, running along the back of her teeth and the roof of her mouth, seeking out every crevice he can just to taste her.

Hook moans softly, just from watching them, and David feels his hand slide from the nape of his neck down his back. The contact is electric, sends a shiver down his spine, and he can’t resist nipping lightly at Regina’s bottom lip before he’s pulling away. He blinks his eyes open, desire making his gaze half-lidded, and he stares at the pirate. He doesn’t know what he looks like, can only imagine, but he _feels_ like he looks needy. He feels needy, desperate, he’s so hard it’s starting to _hurt_ and he doesn’t even have his pants off yet.

Hook must know, because he’s smirking at him even as he’s kissing him again, hard, unyielding. _Fuck_ , he needs—he’s not even sure what anymore. Regina is grinding against him, a hard slow rhythm that makes him jerk up against her, makes him _whimper_ into Hook’s mouth, and she’s kissing his neck, _biting_ it, and fuck, she shouldn’t do that.

He can’t have any marks, because Mary Margaret might see and—the thought gets lost as Regina stops her grinding, and _why_ is she stopping? He turns his head to protest, but stops as she moves to pull his shoes off. Yes, okay, shoes coming off hopefully mean pants coming off, so he’s okay with this. In fact, he decides to help her out, and his own hands go to his belt, and he thinks Hook is laughing at him, at his eagerness.

But it doesn’t matter, because then Regina is there too, her hands helping him unbutton his jeans and she shoves them and his underwear down his legs, doesn’t even bother to pull them off entirely. He doesn’t mind that, either, because her hand is around him then, and he hisses at the contact. “Oh, s _hhh_ it,” he breathes out, his head falling back as she wraps her fingers around him and slowly strokes him from root to tip.

Her hands are soft, almost gentle as she pumps him. He never would have guessed she had such soft hands, not with the way he’s seen her crush hearts and throw fireballs. But it’s nice, her grip firm around him but not too tight, the right amount of pressure as her hand moves over him, her thumb rubbing over the head of his cock, spreading the bead of moisture she finds there.

Though David’s attention is entirely focused on Regina’s hand, Hook is busy too, kissing him, kissing his jaw, nipping and nibbling and swirling his tongue at the hinge. It’s delicious, arousing, has David’s eyes rolling back into his head as pleasure starts to overwhelm him. All thoughts of Mary Margaret are gone, and all that matters now is his release.

“ _Please_ ,” he gasps out, desperate, hands digging into the coarse blanket they’ve been sleeping on since they got to Neverland.

“Oh, I do like that,” Regina chuckles, and she pumps harder, faster, her other hand sliding from his thigh to his balls, lightly drags her nails against them and provoking an absolutely strangled sound from him. “Beg me again.”

“Regina,” David whines, then gasps out a sharp _ah!_ as her grip turns painful, punishing. “I—Y-Your Majesty?” he tries again, voice tight in his throat, and Regina resumes her more pleasurable stroke. “Please, I want—” And he can’t finish that sentence, because he doesn’t know _what_ he wants, or rather, what he wants first.

He wants to come. But he wants to be inside her, wants her mouth around him. Wants _Hook’s_ mouth around him, or his hand, or—Regina’s hand is gone, just _gone_ , and David can’t help the bereft noise he makes, his eyes peeling open to stare at her.

She doesn’t much look like the Evil Queen, not with her more subdued makeup and shorter hair and certainly not without her intimidating, distracting corsets, but that smile takes him back to the Enchanted Forest. She knows that she has him in the palm of her hand (quite literally a moment ago), and David should probably be afraid right now, and not so incredibly turned on he thinks he might explode if she’d just touch him again.

“I’m not sure you’ve earned that just yet,” she murmurs, voice low and seductive, and has she always sounded so sexy? “I think you need to work a little before you can come.”

David has the brief thought that he should seize control of this situation, that he should pull her to him and push her to the ground and fuck her into it, but Regina is standing. She’s unbuttoning her pants, and his mouth goes dry as he watches. Hook stands as well, pulling her into a kiss before he’s helping her out of her clothes, and Regina is naked before them, proud and unashamed as they stare for a moment.

She’s back to commanding in a second, kissing Hook harder, hungrier, and Hook has his left arm wrapped around her back, keeping her steady as his hand seeks out the center of her. Regina moans when he touches her, something Hook echoes as he breaks the kiss, muttering, “So wet already, love.”

Regina pushes him away, then, her eyes landing on David still sitting on the ground. “On your back,” she orders, and _yes_ , she’s going to ride him, he’s more than okay with that as he lies back. But instead of straddling him again, she walks over to his head, kneeling next to him.

David looks at her, confused, and looks at Hook, who just looks _hungry_ as he stares at his cock, and suddenly Hook is kneeling between his legs, glancing at Regina.

“Oh, yes, Captain,” Regina smirks, nodding once as she positions herself above David, straddling his head. “Let’s see how good your mouth is,” she says, and David isn’t sure if she means him or Hook—he thinks the answer might be both, and he moans softly. He’s not sure he’s going to survive this.

He doesn’t get the chance to think about it long before she’s sinking down, and Hook’s right, she’s so wet. His hands go to her hips instinctively, holding her as he tentatively licks at her. He’s only done this for Snow, and never in this position, but he supposes it can’t be all that different. He starts with broad, flat strokes, starting at the top of her and working his way to her slit, then switches to more pointed flicks of his tongue. Regina gives him cues, guiding him with her moans and the subtle roll of her hips against his face. David licks, can’t help his own moan as her taste gathers on his tongue, and Regina gasps at the vibration against her clit as he closes his lips around it and sucks. “Just like that,” she breathes, and that’s sexy, the way her voice has gone all airy and slightly high-pitched.

He’s proud of himself, proud that he can make her sound like that, and feel that good with just his mouth, his hands holding tight to her hips as he fucks her with his tongue. He’s almost too distracted with his task, has all but forgotten about Hook when he feels cold metal lightly dragging down his thigh, causing him to jerk.

He makes a startled sound against Regina, has her chuckling instead of moaning as he pulls his tongue out of her. He wants to push her away, but she fights him, surprisingly strong as she holds her weight against him. “Oh no,” she murmurs, grinding her hips to encourage him, “We’re not finished here.”

David moans in protest, but then Hook is pressing his mouth to his chest, and then down, down, down as his hand and hook continue dragging against his thighs. Now that he knows to expect it, the metal bite isn’t as shocking, feels good even. He resumes using his tongue on Regina, slides it through her wetness and then slips it back inside, going as deep as he can manage.

Hook, in the meantime, mouths kisses from one hip bone to the other, swirls his tongue against the sensitive join of his hip and leg. Smirks when David shivers and does it again, again, drags his tongue is broad swipes as his fingers dig into David’s hips to still them.

This time, when David moans, it’s not in protest. It’s pleading. He needs some attention to his cock, he’s so hard, and Hook won’t stop teasing.

“Who would have thought,” Regina says breathlessly, “that Prince Charming would be whimpering like that for Captain Hook’s mouth?” She eases off of his mouth, and David feels bereft, not expecting her to move away.

“Ask him nicely,” she orders, gripping his hair and urging him to look up.

David does as told, as he’s tugged about, looks up at Hook. He groans at the sight of Hook between his legs, even though all he can see is his dark hair as he sucks bruises down his pelvis. “Please,” he whispers hoarsely, licks his lips and tastes Regina. “I need it.”

“Be more specific,” Regina prods, and David flushes with embarrassment even as he begs, “Please, I need your mouth.” Her nails dig into his scalp until he adds, _Around my cock, please._

Hook glances up, lips curled into the most devious smirk, David’s arousal gripping him tighter at the sight of it. “Since you asked so politely,” he murmurs in a husky tone, and then he’s licking a stripe up the underside of David’s cock.

David’s eyes roll back into his head as he falls back onto the blanket, a strangled moan of pleasure escaping his throat before he could even think about containing it. Regina laughs outright, listens to him moan for a moment before she’s straddling him again.

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to do this while Hook is doing that. _That_ being Hook dragging his tongue over his cock, his left arm draped over his hips as his right hand grips him at the base. He licks at the tip of him, swirling his tongue there, and David’s muffled moan triggers one of Hook’s own. The pirate takes him into his mouth then, sucks lightly at just the head, and David’s tongue stutters against Regina’s clit, losing its rhythm.

Regina whines, rocking her hips against him, and David knows he needs to focus, knows the last thing he wants is to leave Regina unsatisfied. But fuck, Hook is good with his tongue, with his mouth. He’s taking him in slowly, inch by inch, sucking and pulling away teasingly, drawing out the torture as his tongue swirls and laves.

David digs his fingers into Regina’s hips, tries to focus on her, on how she tastes, on the way she moans for him when he sucks at her. His hips buck as Hook finally wraps his mouth around him, sucks him all the way in, and _fuck_. He’s not going to last much longer, not when Hook starts bobbing his head, and _oh fuck oh_ —Hook’s hand slips from his cock to his balls, massaging, stroking, and he’s so _close_.

He tries to say something, to give warning, but he’s still buried in Regina’s sex, can’t manage anything but a garbled _ah I’m_ and the rest is lost. But he’s jerking, and Hook doesn’t stop, sucks harder and brings his hand to hold David still as best he can manage. David lets out a long groan against Regina as he comes, spurting down Hook’s throat.

For a moment everything seems to stop as Hook pulls away, letting his cock slip from his throat. David closes his eyes, overwhelmed for a moment, a little dazed. But then Regina is rubbing against his face, reminding him that she is not done, and he moans softly against her. Okay, okay, he can do this now, and he grips her hips, licks at the center of her with a broad swipe of his tongue. Then he focuses, uses the point of it to flick over her clit, rapid and hard, enjoys the way she keens at the action, even if the sound is muffled by her thighs around his head.

He feels lips against his stomach, Hook’s mouth, he’s kissing his way up his torso, and David groans. But then Hook is sitting up, readjusting, and David hears the sound of their mouths meeting above him.

Heat tears through him at the thought, and he wishes he could see. He wants to watch them kiss, wants to see what they’re doing to each other. Even though he’s already come, he still wants to see them. But this is good, sucking at Regina and hearing her moan into Hook’s mouth.

David is only vaguely aware of the cloud of smoke above him, feels the telltale shiver of magic through the air, and then Hook is groaning. “Ah, yeah,” he breathes out, and David wishes he could see. He can imagine what’s going on, though, from the sounds.

Regina has magicked away Hook’s pants, and they’re still kissing, he can hear that much. But underneath the soft moans and the smack of their mouths meeting and separating, he hears the sound of skin against skin. Her hand around Hook’s cock, he thinks, and that has him moaning against Regina’s sex, has her hips rolling harder against his face.

“Oh!” she gasps, and her rhythm falters, he can hear her hand stutter for a moment before she regains herself.

“Are you close?” Hook murmurs to her, and David shivers at the whimpering noise Regina makes in response. “Are you going to come for him?”

She must nod in response, because then the pirate is whispering, “Say it so he can hear it, Your Majesty, let him hear you.” And fuck, if Hook keeps talking like that David thinks he might just get hard again. It’s incredibly arousing, that accent saying those words, and to Regina, no less. For the hundredth time, he wishes he could see what she looks like right now.

“Mmm—yes, I’m— _oh_ —I’m gonna—” Regina can’t finish her sentence, not as David resumes that hard, fast flicking motion against her clit. But he doesn’t need her to finish it, not when she’s crying out, not when she’s trembling in his grasp. He knows how close she is, and he wraps his mouth around her clit, sucking hard at her.

“That’s it, Regina,” Hook encourages, and he lets out a deep groan at whatever she’s doing with her hand. “Oh, fuck, you’re—faster, love, I can handle a rougher touch— _yes_ like that, _fuck_ —”

David digs his nails into Regina’s hips, pulls her hard against his mouth and holds her there, and this time when he lashes her clit with his tongue, she cries out. She stiffens above him, and Hook grunts, something like _fuck, so beautiful,_ but David is entirely too concerned with the flood of her wetness in his mouth, eagerly licking her up as she clenches and trembles.

He thinks her hand has stopped around Hook, but she regains herself, starts up that quick and hard rhythm Hook had encouraged. It has him moaning, broken sentences falling from his lips, _oh yes just like—hnnng fuck yes—oh fuck Regina fucking bloody he—ah!_ David can’t see, can’t see at all because she’s still sitting on his face, still letting him lick at her, but he feels it when Hook comes.

Pressed against Regina the way he must be, he spills on her thighs, on David’s chin, and David feels it against his face. He groans, his arousal stirring, and Regina’s finally moving off him, moaning a bit as she readjusts from the position she had been in for so long. Finally, David can see them, may not have gotten to enjoy the visuals of them in the throes of passion but he’ll take them afterwards, debauched and spent. It’s glorious, Hook’s dark hair falling into his eyes as his head hangs, chest glistening with sweat as he breathes deep, and yes, David definitely feels himself hardening a bit.

Regina is a picture, too, her own dark tresses curling at the ends from the sweat, olive skin dewy, nipples still hard, Hook’s release and her own painting her thighs. He wants her, really wants her, wants to bury himself inside of her and fuck her into the ground. She smirks at him, of course she knows, and she reaches for him, tugging him up into a kiss.

She doesn’t kiss his mouth, though, goes straight for his chin. Her tongue flicks out, traces the scar there, and then draws a path from it to the other side of his chin. She seeks out the taste of Hook, sucks it from his skin, and he’s half-hard now, can’t help the little needy sound that escapes him.

Regina pulls away, raising an eyebrow at him, her hand falling to his cock. “Again, Charming?” she chuckles, and then she’s kissing him, and she tastes different. Tastes like Hook, and he’s firming up in her palm as she strokes, and oh, Hook is moving towards them, pressing into Regina’s back as he dips his head to kiss her shoulders.

“Yes,” he hisses, clutching at her, kissing her, tongue pushing into her mouth and searching for every bit of Hook he can find. He’s going to fuck her, and he kisses down her neck, seeks out Hook’s mouth for a kiss of his own, and he wonders if Hook would let him suck him off. He moans at the thought, moans at Regina’s mouth moving to his neck, her hand still on his cock, and he can’t stop moaning.

She kisses up to his ear, whispers his name, his actual name. “David,” she says, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, makes him shiver. She repeats it though, a little insistently, again and again.

“David, wake up.”

He pulls out of Hook’s kiss, and even though he’s the one that pulled away, he still groans in protest at the loss of Hook’s distracting mouth. Confusion knits his brow, and Regina says it again, _wake up_ , but it’s not her voice. It’s Mary Margaret’s, sweet and concerned and not at all low and seductive, and anger ripples through him.

Pushing Regina away, angry at her vocal mimicry, and he’s going to let her know it, but he blinks when he sees her face, eyes still half-lidded and lust-filled. Something is wrong, he thinks, and when he blinks again, his eyes open and—

It’s dark, but not as dark as Neverland, not nearly as crushing as that darkness had felt. This is normal darkness, bedroom darkness, and that makes sense, because he’s in a bed. His bed. His and Mary Margaret’s bed, the one they’ve shared since the curse broke, in her apartment in Storybrooke.

The grogginess of sleep lifts, and he realizes that he was asleep, that he had been dreaming. Mary Margaret is next to him, sitting up, peering over at him. “Are you okay?” she asks, a little timid, almost embarrassed.

Oh fuck. Does she know?

“You were… groaning in your sleep,” she murmurs, and he can’t look at her. Can’t meet her eyes. “Was it… a nightmare?”

No. Definitely not, and as he shifts a bit, he feels the tackiness in his boxers. Fuck. He came in his sleep. And he’s still half-hard, something he definitely doesn’t want Mary-Margaret to see.

“Uh—yeah,” he says, because he has plenty of things to have nightmares about, and it’s easier to explain that to his wife than the threesome sex dream he just had. Fortunately she doesn’t ask, but she does press against him, and she’s trying to comfort him.

He feels like a cad, like a cheater, even if it’s not as if he regularly has these dreams or as if he even thinks about Regina or Killian like that. Well. Not usually.

Mary Margaret kisses his cheek, nuzzles gently against his neck, and he swallows hard as he thinks about Regina and Killian doing just that in his dream. Her arm slips around him, seeking out his hand, but he catches it, gently eases her away.

“Bathroom,” he says by way of explanation, and he’s glad it’s dark, glad she can’t make out the wet spot on his pajama pants or the way he’s tenting them a bit. When he gets in there, he breathes deeply, trying to not think about the dream.

He cleans himself up as best he can, runs some water and splashes his face. Puts the thoughts of Regina and Killian out of his mind, resolutely not thinking about their kisses or their hands, reminding himself it was just a dream.

David comes up with justifications: it was just a dream, it means nothing. He was overtired from the station today, and both Regina and Killian had stopped by for various reasons. So of course they were on his mind, and that’s why he dreamed about fucking them.

It’s perfectly reasonable, perfectly normal.

He loves Mary Margaret. He knows he does. And their sex life is fine. Satisfactory. One might even say perfunctory, because it’s hard to find time to have sex with Emma there, and Baby Neal, and every crisis in Storybrooke.

So it only makes sense that he might have these dreams occasionally. And that’s all it is, every now and then, when Regina’s wearing one of those tight skirts and Killian is wearing that leather jacket of his with his shirts unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Not that David ever notices those things, of course not, he’s a married man, and he has no interest in other men.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he dries his face and heads back out to his wife. She’s almost asleep again, though she murmurs concerned nonsense words as he climbs back into bed, her hand reaching for him. David doesn’t kiss her, as he might usually, instead squeezing her hand and then letting it go, carefully keeping as much space between them as possible.

As he closes his eyes, he tries to will away the image of Regina and Killian kissing, tries to forget what Dream Regina tasted like or the feel of Dream Killian’s mouth around his cock. Tells himself not to think about it, to not have those thoughts, to certainly not think about where the dream got interrupted or how they were going to fuck all over again. He cannot risk dreaming about them again.

But as sleep begins to take him, he’s already imagining Regina’s seductive chuckle and the slight scrape of Killian’s facial hair against his neck.


End file.
